I am no word smith, and your name is no jewel-
Still, I find that your single syllable
Hits my mark
And resounds, ringing,
Shining on the tip of my tongue.
It is nothing like bubblegum
Or a peppermint
to make my breath fresh,
But I feel clean when we speak.
There is no stressed character
Or unique quality in the vibration,
Except that it is yours,
And nothing stirs my recognition
So much as the thoughts and memories tied to it.
So I will treasure your name,
In my way,
And breathe it aloud before I sleep-
What rose could sound as sweet?
I like writing poetry. Not all of it is going to be a historical epic or an ode to something. These are like little glimpses of the subway in my mind; my train of thought isn't always artsy or symbolic or deep or meaningful, but I like to think that art takes ordinary things and makes people see a sort of beauty in them. So, look around- I've been doing this for a while. Enjoy ♥
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Thursday, December 20, 2007
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Teacher
Their enlightenment delights me
And I am not ashamed
To give a name
To the one thing I long to be-
Teacher,
Sometimes preacher;
Molder of minds
And futures.
A rather romantic view on the whole matter, but the world needs more teachers who actually want to be teachers.
And I am not ashamed
To give a name
To the one thing I long to be-
Teacher,
Sometimes preacher;
Molder of minds
And futures.
A rather romantic view on the whole matter, but the world needs more teachers who actually want to be teachers.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Long-Distance
his voice cracked
across the empty static
like a whip,
hitting me deepest at my core,
creating tremors of response-
my shoulders shook with laughter
and I loathed
to let him go.
For a certain person I know, whose name starts with an M and ends with an Ark and will probably never read this. Which is a good thing, in the current scheme.
across the empty static
like a whip,
hitting me deepest at my core,
creating tremors of response-
my shoulders shook with laughter
and I loathed
to let him go.
For a certain person I know, whose name starts with an M and ends with an Ark and will probably never read this. Which is a good thing, in the current scheme.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Childhood Friend
It would have been okay to say, “No,”
(I know)
But the thought of being alone
Was startling.
Honestly,
Though I am guilty of hypocrisy,
I was glad of her presence,
Warming my heart
In ways I cannot understand,
Thus unknown to man.
We traveled back in time,
Playing games of childhood
And releasing our worries through words.
I did not mind the tradition
Of separation-
Individual blankets, but sharing the bed.
(I know)
But the thought of being alone
Was startling.
Honestly,
Though I am guilty of hypocrisy,
I was glad of her presence,
Warming my heart
In ways I cannot understand,
Thus unknown to man.
We traveled back in time,
Playing games of childhood
And releasing our worries through words.
I did not mind the tradition
Of separation-
Individual blankets, but sharing the bed.
Communicate
I would communicate,
But for the words I am choked by.
At this rate,
I will never use my true voice again,
Only the autopilot of pleasantries
Devoid of any subtleties
Or unchecked emotion.
There is no rhyme or rhythm to my speech,
But of my heartbeat there is plenty.
So ignore this forked and twisted tongue,
Hold your head
Close to my chest
And wrap your stethoscope arms around me,
Enjoy the sound of what I feel
But cannot say.
Good day.
But for the words I am choked by.
At this rate,
I will never use my true voice again,
Only the autopilot of pleasantries
Devoid of any subtleties
Or unchecked emotion.
There is no rhyme or rhythm to my speech,
But of my heartbeat there is plenty.
So ignore this forked and twisted tongue,
Hold your head
Close to my chest
And wrap your stethoscope arms around me,
Enjoy the sound of what I feel
But cannot say.
Good day.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Shay
6 lines, 5 beats per
We huddled in groups,
our shoulders shaking.
“Look,” a classmate said,
pointing to the sky
with a trembling hand,
“God is crying too.”
7 lines, 8 beats per
The chapel was filled with mourners,
some silently shaking, others
screaming heart-wrenching sobs, broken.
Someone near the front was singing,
"His Eye Is On The Sparrow," and
I sang it softly to myself
as I walked through the rain outside.
A classmate of mine, a senior that graduated last year, died last Sunday.
Please pray for eveyone dealing with her loss.
We huddled in groups,
our shoulders shaking.
“Look,” a classmate said,
pointing to the sky
with a trembling hand,
“God is crying too.”
7 lines, 8 beats per
The chapel was filled with mourners,
some silently shaking, others
screaming heart-wrenching sobs, broken.
Someone near the front was singing,
"His Eye Is On The Sparrow," and
I sang it softly to myself
as I walked through the rain outside.
A classmate of mine, a senior that graduated last year, died last Sunday.
Please pray for eveyone dealing with her loss.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Vacation
18 lines, 7 beats per
fade me into shades of brown
and turn my world upside down
wake me up late afternoon
forget that school's starting soon
later, when we peel away
flaking skin, then we will say
entirely nothing at all
about the impending fall
and all its consequences
just sitting on our fences
so very indecisive
when we want to choose to live
in the memory of heat
just forget reality
so we ignore these thoughts and
keep walking on, hand in hand
remembering that summer
can only come once a year.
I meant to make that one a tad shorter, really. But then I just kept going, and going, and going...
fade me into shades of brown
and turn my world upside down
wake me up late afternoon
forget that school's starting soon
later, when we peel away
flaking skin, then we will say
entirely nothing at all
about the impending fall
and all its consequences
just sitting on our fences
so very indecisive
when we want to choose to live
in the memory of heat
just forget reality
so we ignore these thoughts and
keep walking on, hand in hand
remembering that summer
can only come once a year.
I meant to make that one a tad shorter, really. But then I just kept going, and going, and going...
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Selkie
Did the sea call her by name? Waves wholly washing away her shame, a hoard of secrets shared in whispers on the shore, promises of distant lands- warmer waters, softer sands, places that she's never dreamed before. broken lights like mirrors ride, a thousandbeams fragmented by the ancient tricks of wind and distance- takes her to another place; she sinks without resistance
A selkie is a mythological being thing that goes from seal to human, typically just in the way of shedding their seal skin & putting it back on. Not was I was thinking of when I wrote this, but it works... I think.
A selkie is a mythological being thing that goes from seal to human, typically just in the way of shedding their seal skin & putting it back on. Not was I was thinking of when I wrote this, but it works... I think.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Thrift Shopping
rows of rainbows,
color coded
mountais of mark-downs
("Prices so low, you can't resist!")
Later at home, sore wrists
sensitive fintertips
flicking stapled tags away
exclaiming over money saved-
all these brand names
so inexpensive
later, silently pensive
memories of wanting,
not getting
watching you mother,
not letting
her buy what we don't need
constantly
wondering,
"How much are these?"
I honestly didn't know how to wrap it up. I could've gone on and on, you know, but I wanted to make it somewhat short.
color coded
mountais of mark-downs
("Prices so low, you can't resist!")
Later at home, sore wrists
sensitive fintertips
flicking stapled tags away
exclaiming over money saved-
all these brand names
so inexpensive
later, silently pensive
memories of wanting,
not getting
watching you mother,
not letting
her buy what we don't need
constantly
wondering,
"How much are these?"
I honestly didn't know how to wrap it up. I could've gone on and on, you know, but I wanted to make it somewhat short.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Flip Flop Fantastic
Flip flop fantastic
rubber band elastic
emotions
force me through the motions
but what I think
is never what I do
and I never said, "I love you."
so give me one last embrace
arsenic and lace
were never so refined
you could never see inside my mind
and I can't see through yours
opportunities are open doors
that are letting in the heat
so I stare at my feet
and turn away
another chance, another day
but with these
flip flop fantastic
rubber band elastic emotions
I never know when just the motions
just won't be enough
your skin's so smooth
but these choices are tough
and what I think has never been what I do
and I never said, "I love you."
so give me one last embrace
as I memorize your face
and walk away
(maybe another day)
and though it's never done or said
these things will crowd my head
but you see, I have these
flip flop fantastic
rubber band elastic emotions
and though I force myself through the motions
you should know
before I go
that what I think is never what I've gone to do
and I've never said, "I love you."
It sounds better when you say it out loud, like one big paragraph. I love the way it moves around my mouth~<3 Anyway, I wrote this a while ago, after reading this, a poem that Kylie Wilson (fellow MVA-er) wrote.
She draws, she writes, she sings- she does everything!
rubber band elastic
emotions
force me through the motions
but what I think
is never what I do
and I never said, "I love you."
so give me one last embrace
arsenic and lace
were never so refined
you could never see inside my mind
and I can't see through yours
opportunities are open doors
that are letting in the heat
so I stare at my feet
and turn away
another chance, another day
but with these
flip flop fantastic
rubber band elastic emotions
I never know when just the motions
just won't be enough
your skin's so smooth
but these choices are tough
and what I think has never been what I do
and I never said, "I love you."
so give me one last embrace
as I memorize your face
and walk away
(maybe another day)
and though it's never done or said
these things will crowd my head
but you see, I have these
flip flop fantastic
rubber band elastic emotions
and though I force myself through the motions
you should know
before I go
that what I think is never what I've gone to do
and I've never said, "I love you."
It sounds better when you say it out loud, like one big paragraph. I love the way it moves around my mouth~<3 Anyway, I wrote this a while ago, after reading this, a poem that Kylie Wilson (fellow MVA-er) wrote.
She draws, she writes, she sings- she does everything!
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Insomnia
Sometimes, when I can't sleep at night, I lay on my back and think of when you slept beside me, your breath stirring the rapid heartbeat inside me. I remember those few golden summer days, flying by in a reckless haze of teenage joy and pheremones. Now I'm sleeping all alone, since I never worked up the courage to say what we both know; I thought it would happen on its own. Of course, I was wrong. And because it's been so long, I just sigh and turn back on my side, wishing that I could always live in that night. And as I slowly slip into sleep, I start to dream that you dreamt of me.
"Goodnight."
Now I've gone and done it, haven't I? Angsty teenage love, when will it end? ... When I'm not a teenager. Then it'll just be angsty love.
"Goodnight."
Now I've gone and done it, haven't I? Angsty teenage love, when will it end? ... When I'm not a teenager. Then it'll just be angsty love.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Sunlight
"Another English assignment," she whined,
eyes squinting into the sun's harsh light.
"Maybe I'll go blind," she sighed,
"so I won't have to write."
I opened my mouth to agree,
but then she interrupted me,
"Hopefully,"
(here she smiled,)
"I won't so I can."
I was struck dumb by her contradiction,
and in the manner of my tradition
remained silent,
letting my thoughts run on autopilot.
In the end, she didn't go blind,
and she did have to write.
That night,
I dreamt of sunlight.
I don't care what anyone thinks, the ending fits and I'm sticking to it. Just a little roundabout is all... I know I'm going to reuse the subject sunlight more than once, so I figure I should just give a quick warning to anyone who actually bothers to read this. Don't look at me like that, sunlight is one of the easiest things for me to write about now that I've decided to forego emo-esque poems. So nyah.
eyes squinting into the sun's harsh light.
"Maybe I'll go blind," she sighed,
"so I won't have to write."
I opened my mouth to agree,
but then she interrupted me,
"Hopefully,"
(here she smiled,)
"I won't so I can."
I was struck dumb by her contradiction,
and in the manner of my tradition
remained silent,
letting my thoughts run on autopilot.
In the end, she didn't go blind,
and she did have to write.
That night,
I dreamt of sunlight.
I don't care what anyone thinks, the ending fits and I'm sticking to it. Just a little roundabout is all... I know I'm going to reuse the subject sunlight more than once, so I figure I should just give a quick warning to anyone who actually bothers to read this. Don't look at me like that, sunlight is one of the easiest things for me to write about now that I've decided to forego emo-esque poems. So nyah.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Rhyming
"You don't rhyme,"
he whined,
eyes narrowing to a glaring line.
"I don't try,"
I sighed,
crossing my arms against the white lie.
I like it~<3
he whined,
eyes narrowing to a glaring line.
"I don't try,"
I sighed,
crossing my arms against the white lie.
I like it~<3
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Sleep
like a bar of lead
attached to my eyelids
heavy , thick, weighing me down
pressed against my face
like a down blanket
almost suffocating
widening my mouth to gulp in more air
slowly, drifting
to sleep
I wish.
Being an insomniac sucks.
attached to my eyelids
heavy , thick, weighing me down
pressed against my face
like a down blanket
almost suffocating
widening my mouth to gulp in more air
slowly, drifting
to sleep
I wish.
Being an insomniac sucks.
Friday, July 13, 2007
Thursday
"Thursday," she explained to me,
"is just an in-between day.
Wednesday is the center date,
and Friday's just before the
weekend." I wondered briefly
what had inspired her words, but
she continued before I
could ask. "That's why I really
like Thursday. You've never heard
it complain before, have you?"
Then she turned and looked at me,
straight into my eyes, smiling.
All I could do was agree.
I like this one, however simple it may be.
And yes, I know today is Friday.
"is just an in-between day.
Wednesday is the center date,
and Friday's just before the
weekend." I wondered briefly
what had inspired her words, but
she continued before I
could ask. "That's why I really
like Thursday. You've never heard
it complain before, have you?"
Then she turned and looked at me,
straight into my eyes, smiling.
All I could do was agree.
I like this one, however simple it may be.
And yes, I know today is Friday.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Tanning
spread out facing towards the sun
darkening like solar panels
painted in shades of black and brown
for the sake of modern beauty
Don't know what I'm trying to get at, since I tan as well. Then again, I'm tan all year round.
darkening like solar panels
painted in shades of black and brown
for the sake of modern beauty
Don't know what I'm trying to get at, since I tan as well. Then again, I'm tan all year round.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
random
Kinda emo-ish. That's all I really have to say, since this one just came to me all at once and poems that happen like that are usually going to look a whole lot less pretty in the morning after a nice cup of coffee. Anyways.
my heart is pounding, and every beat
takes me closer to the memories
that hurt so much to remember
so now I dismember
anybody's words and actions
and push them away before my reactions
grow too warm-
before my fingers conform
to yours.
So when you see how I ignore
your not-so-subtle advances,
please don't try again-
right now I don't want any more romances
one day I'll be ready, but don't ask when.
my heart is pounding, and every beat
takes me closer to the memories
that hurt so much to remember
so now I dismember
anybody's words and actions
and push them away before my reactions
grow too warm-
before my fingers conform
to yours.
So when you see how I ignore
your not-so-subtle advances,
please don't try again-
right now I don't want any more romances
one day I'll be ready, but don't ask when.
Monday, July 9, 2007
Paint
swirls of paint cover
the canvas, hoping
to obscure the sheet
of white nothingness.
so touch me with your
colors, caress me
with your vivid strokes
of life, the hues that
my eyes adhere to.
paint something for me,
and I'll be happy.
That's all, folks. Sorry, my creativity has already been vented on the canvas. This is all that's left :D
the canvas, hoping
to obscure the sheet
of white nothingness.
so touch me with your
colors, caress me
with your vivid strokes
of life, the hues that
my eyes adhere to.
paint something for me,
and I'll be happy.
That's all, folks. Sorry, my creativity has already been vented on the canvas. This is all that's left :D
Sunday, July 8, 2007
Calm...
Sorry! I know I'm trying to do this every day, but it's gonna be kinda hard now with my parents being complete asses.
Anywho, I tried to do some calm ones, just so I don't get any angrier than I am. Maybe they'll help you a bit, too.
open, breathe in, hold
stretch, pause, blow
whisper, whisper, then
start to breathe again
Short one, eh? Kinda helps, though.
try counting to ten
maybe twenty, if you want
you wouldn't want to break
something again.
stare straight ahead-
pretend you can't hear.
there's something in eyes, as well-
you can't see anything.
just clench your fists
imagine a heavy fog,
cool humid mists
let the tension dissolve
I don't know what to do with that one. I don't even know what it is.
Anywho, I tried to do some calm ones, just so I don't get any angrier than I am. Maybe they'll help you a bit, too.
open, breathe in, hold
stretch, pause, blow
whisper, whisper, then
start to breathe again
Short one, eh? Kinda helps, though.
try counting to ten
maybe twenty, if you want
you wouldn't want to break
something again.
stare straight ahead-
pretend you can't hear.
there's something in eyes, as well-
you can't see anything.
just clench your fists
imagine a heavy fog,
cool humid mists
let the tension dissolve
I don't know what to do with that one. I don't even know what it is.
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
Boom!
"Let's just have some fun!
Aren't you leaving soon?"
Fireworks lit up the
silence, brightening
her smile and drowning
the sound of her laugh.
"Crack!, BOOM!" they exclaimed.
I just smiled, silent,
lifting my arms to
embrace the colors
painting the night sky.
I saw no need to
reply- the fireworks
had taken my words.
Happy fourth of July!
Aren't you leaving soon?"
Fireworks lit up the
silence, brightening
her smile and drowning
the sound of her laugh.
"Crack!, BOOM!" they exclaimed.
I just smiled, silent,
lifting my arms to
embrace the colors
painting the night sky.
I saw no need to
reply- the fireworks
had taken my words.
Happy fourth of July!
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Winter
The canvas blooms into brilliant hues
of red and orange, and skies of blue.
When the air cracks and bites your tongue
like sweet mint candy when you were young-
these are the days
when summer fades
into covered skin
and warmth within
the comfort of one's own home.
Where the snow looks so alone
only until the children dress
and run to relieve their happiness
on the blank slate of frost,
and no matter how much heat is lost
to the hunger of cold
for now, they will never grow old
in the endless expanse of white.
Then the cover of night
will call them home,
bring back warmth to frozen toes
with hot chocolate to revive the nose.
Friends and family by the fire
serenaded by the radio's choir
and somewhere in their minds
they leave their troubles behind.
Peace on earth, good will to men-
every winter, over again.
of red and orange, and skies of blue.
When the air cracks and bites your tongue
like sweet mint candy when you were young-
these are the days
when summer fades
into covered skin
and warmth within
the comfort of one's own home.
Where the snow looks so alone
only until the children dress
and run to relieve their happiness
on the blank slate of frost,
and no matter how much heat is lost
to the hunger of cold
for now, they will never grow old
in the endless expanse of white.
Then the cover of night
will call them home,
bring back warmth to frozen toes
with hot chocolate to revive the nose.
Friends and family by the fire
serenaded by the radio's choir
and somewhere in their minds
they leave their troubles behind.
Peace on earth, good will to men-
every winter, over again.
Sunday, July 1, 2007
Thump
12 lines, 5 beats per
"How about we do
all this again soon?"
He messaged to me,
all innocently.
"Thump, thump," said my heart,
as if in reply.
"That's one place to start!"
she said as her eyes
shone so evilly,
when I was looking
for some sympathy.
How do I say, "No"?
--
[much later-
it was quite simple,
I just slapped his hand whenever he tried to make a move.]
"How about we do
all this again soon?"
He messaged to me,
all innocently.
"Thump, thump," said my heart,
as if in reply.
"That's one place to start!"
she said as her eyes
shone so evilly,
when I was looking
for some sympathy.
How do I say, "No"?
--
[much later-
it was quite simple,
I just slapped his hand whenever he tried to make a move.]
Labels:
decisions,
heart,
ignorance,
poetry,
relationships
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Regret
I won't try,
and neither will you-
monkey see, monkey do
(or don't).
So we smile and walk away-
I've taught my heart not to shake;
because no matter what they say,
regret hurts less than heartbreak
--
[This is basically a remix of something much longer, and more emo.]
and neither will you-
monkey see, monkey do
(or don't).
So we smile and walk away-
I've taught my heart not to shake;
because no matter what they say,
regret hurts less than heartbreak
--
[This is basically a remix of something much longer, and more emo.]
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Color
7 lines, 6 beats per
We were silent when I
found you astounded by
the colors in my eyes,
staring as if you had
been captured. I never
let you know I noticed.
--
6 lines, 7 beats per
What was Noah thinking when
the first rainbow broke the sky,
rising among the heavens
before falling back to earth?
I know what I'd be thinking.
"My God made all these colors."
We were silent when I
found you astounded by
the colors in my eyes,
staring as if you had
been captured. I never
let you know I noticed.
--
6 lines, 7 beats per
What was Noah thinking when
the first rainbow broke the sky,
rising among the heavens
before falling back to earth?
I know what I'd be thinking.
"My God made all these colors."
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Faith
9 lines, 6 beats per
"We have faith in you," they
prayed, heads bowed and eyes closed,
throwing their prayers high.
I thought of the classmate,
sleeping somewhere in a
hospital bed, alone.
Then I closed my eyes, and
prayed. "I have faith as well."
--
6 lines, 9 beats per
"We named her Faith," they explained, pointing
to the slash of orange fur, a cross
laid across her piercing eyes. She used
to walk me to the bus stop, until
we found her purring in a pool of
blood. "The bullet was fatal," she sighs.
---
A classmate last year was injured in a snowboarding accident- he fell on his head. Something about blood in his spinal fluid, broken ribs doing something or other... He shouldn't have survived, but he did. And he still snowboards!
I used to have a cat named Faith; she was gray with an orange cross on her face. Some church members found her lingering outside the church, pawing at the doors. My older sister found her under one of the chairs on our front porch, purring in a pool of blood. Somebody had shot her with a bb gun, point blank. It shattered some bones, that proceeded to lodge into vital organs.
"We have faith in you," they
prayed, heads bowed and eyes closed,
throwing their prayers high.
I thought of the classmate,
sleeping somewhere in a
hospital bed, alone.
Then I closed my eyes, and
prayed. "I have faith as well."
--
6 lines, 9 beats per
"We named her Faith," they explained, pointing
to the slash of orange fur, a cross
laid across her piercing eyes. She used
to walk me to the bus stop, until
we found her purring in a pool of
blood. "The bullet was fatal," she sighs.
---
A classmate last year was injured in a snowboarding accident- he fell on his head. Something about blood in his spinal fluid, broken ribs doing something or other... He shouldn't have survived, but he did. And he still snowboards!
I used to have a cat named Faith; she was gray with an orange cross on her face. Some church members found her lingering outside the church, pawing at the doors. My older sister found her under one of the chairs on our front porch, purring in a pool of blood. Somebody had shot her with a bb gun, point blank. It shattered some bones, that proceeded to lodge into vital organs.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Starting it off...
I had an idea.
I wanted a space where I can post small, every day poems.
Aaaaand...
this is the first post!
I'd like to start it off like this-
(7 lines, 5 syllables per- subject= money)
the jingle jangleI wanted a space where I can post small, every day poems.
Aaaaand...
this is the first post!
I'd like to start it off like this-
(7 lines, 5 syllables per- subject= money)
of future fortunes,
piles of pennies and
depths of dimes- nickels
in every nook and
cranny, waiting for
just the perfect time.
---
Just like that, y'see?
Small and simple.
Let's see how this goes!
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